Mistaken Notions
by MSCSIFANGSR
Summary: This is my 'Sara's got amnesia' fic. Like first time fics, don't we all have to do one of these? GSR all the way.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Mistaken Notions  
AUTHOR: MSCSIFANGSR aka Chauncey10  
RATING: M  
PAIRING: GSR, always  
DISCLAIMER: The rights to CSI and The Princess Bride are owned by people much richer than me. I'm only playing with their characters.  
NOTES: This is my 'Sara's got amnesia' fic. Like first time fics, don't we all have to do one of these?  
PROMPT(S): Kiki xxL from YTDAW wanted the following: "Grissom and Sara are not together, Warrick lives, Catherine and Sara are friends (I don´t like Sara-bashing-Catherine). While Sara is with Nick (on a case, film, everywhere) she hits her head and when she awakes, she thinks she is dating Nick. It should be GSR in the end of course."  
A shout out to 1Hour2Write's Monthly PicChallenge. Pic #23 from the May 2009 challenge is also featured in this story. Thanks to LosingInTranslation for all her hard work. Check my profile for the link to the PicChallenge and let yourself become inspired, too. I'm a 'little' behind on the PicChallenges.

* * *

In the waning light of the evening, the brunette stretched her body in the bed. She felt something tugging against the skin of her arm and opened her eyes to see a needle, covered by a transparent bandage, sticking into the blue vein of her left forearm with an IV line running upwards to a bag that hung at the head of the bed.

She searched her memory for a reason for the IV and came up empty. She wondered if someone had kidnapped her and was pumping noxious drugs into her system or if perhaps she'd been in some sort of accident and was hospitalized. She was unsure and then wondered why her first thought was of someone kidnapping her.

She ran her free hand through the rat's nest that was her hair and felt a large goose egg sized bump on the top of her head, not directly centered on the apex, but off on the right side a bit. _Someone must have knocked the shit out of me, but who_?

She tried to remember something, anything, but found her mind desolate, empty of memory. As she racked her brain for any personal details, a laser like pain streaked through her brain like lightning, immobilizing her thought process.

_Calm down_, she thought to herself as she felt her body tense with anxiousness. She took a deep breath as the pain in her head finally ceased for a moment and looked around the room. She could tell immediately she was in a rather standard hospital room with one window covered with a cheap metal blind. Her gaze settled on someone sitting in a chair beside her. The woman's breathing clinched, she hoped this person wasn't her attacker, but relaxed when she realized he was asleep.

He had close-cropped black hair; needed a shave but was ruggedly handsome; he was tall, his long legs stretched out before him; and he wore a plain western styled button up shirt and blue jeans. And she didn't have a clue as to who he was. Then it occurred to her that she must have amnesia. This man was probably either her husband or boyfriend. She smiled warily to herself and thought, _I have a hunk of a man and I don't remember a thing. What a waste. _

It occurred to her that perhaps she and this man were in an abusive type relationship and he was the cause of the head injury. But as quickly as she concluded it, she discarded it immediately. _There is no way I'd allow myself to be in that type relationship. I don't know why, but I DO know that._

She closed her eyes as the pain fleetingly shot through the left side of her brain and seconds later, unconsciousness overcame her.

* * *

The television was on the next time she woke. The woman wasn't as startled this time when she remembered she remembered nothing. She did however recognize the characters on the screen.

Westley, disguised as the Dread Pirate Roberts, was in the midst of a battle of wits with Vizzini, the man who had kidnapped Buttercup. "The Princess Bride" was one of her favorite movies of all time, she did know that.

_How can I remember nothing, but know beyond a shadow of doubt that true love wins the day in this movie?_

She was vexed over the disparity of her memory when the sound of a man's voice interrupted her thoughts. "How do you feel, Sara?"

She looked sharply at the man, who was not the same one who'd been sleeping beside her when she'd awoken earlier. This man's sharp blue eyes startled her with their intensity. He was older, dignified, with graying hair, perhaps he was her doctor.

"My head hurts pretty badly," she replied. Another lightning pain swept through her head, relenting as quickly as it began. She grimaced.

"Do I need to call for your doctor?" The concern in his voice was apparent.

She nodded, closing her eyes. _Nope, not my doctor. Maybe he's my boyfriend, he's very nice looking and there's something about him that makes me...but wait, I already have a boyfriend. Wonder where he went?_

"I think that might be a good idea if you called the doctor, because I seem not to remember anything."

"Amnesia?"

"Apparently."

The man exhaled slowly as she watched. He seemed annoyed, but calmly reached onto her bed and pushed the nurse call button. The man stared deeply into her eyes. The tinny voice of a nurse through a speaker broke the spell created by the in-depth survey into her soul by the man; it seemed to her that he was trying to use his will to help her remember. "Can I help you?"

"She's regained consciousness."

"Someone will be with you in a moment."

Sara looked at the television screen again. Westley was confessing to Buttercup he was in fact her Westley and the Dread Pirate Roberts.

"I know this movie, but I don't know who you are."

"Gil Grissom."

She considered his answer and it seemed right. "And I am?"

"Sara Sidle." He'd called her 'Sara' earlier, so he must be telling her the truth.

"Could you call my boyfriend and tell him I'm awake. He's probably worried."

Grissom's eyebrows rose and his mouth opened in a slight 'O', but was interrupted by two people entering the room.

"Sir, if you could step outside, the doctor needs to examine the patient. We'll call you if we need anything." The blonde nurse grasped Grissom's arm and led him toward the door. He looked at Sara laying on the hospital bed and his only thought, _Since when does Sara have a boyfriend_? A flicker of jealousy flared through him as the nurse shut him out of the room.

He paced back and forth on the gray linoleum floor of the hall from Sara's room to the nurses station for about 30 minutes before the same blonde nurse stepped out of her room. He approached her and inquired about Sara's prognosis.

"The doctor is still doing his assessment; it appears her memory is impaired."

"When can I see her again?" Grissom's tone belayed his concern.

"When the doctor is finished, you can go back in," she smiled and returned to her station and began charting.

Several long minutes lapsed before the doctor exited the room, "Are you here for Miss Sidle?"

"Yes, I'm her boss."

"Does she have family we can contact? She will need emotional support to get through this."

"No, her co-workers are her family. We'll help her."

"What about the boyfriend she mentioned?"

"I'm not sure she has a boyfriend, the only other person who was here, was the co-worker who found her after the accident. I don't believe they are involved. He's gone home to get some sleep. I'm staying with her for the time being."

After the doctor explained Sara's condition to him, Grissom slipped back inside the hospital room where Sara lay quietly in slumber. He reached for her hand, when he held it firmly in his own, he prayed she would recover quickly.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Mistaken Notions  
Chapter Two  
by MSCSIFANGSR

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. I am playing with them for my own personal amusement and decided to share this story with a few friends. What's criminal about that?

* * *

It had been 2 days since the accident. She still remembered nothing of a personal nature, but her doctors were assured her memory would return, although none would predict when it would return. She was angry, not at them per se, more at herself, because she found herself lacking and didn't care for the sensation.

It had been explained to her by her boss, the man with gray hair and marvelous blue eyes, that she was a crime scene investigator with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. While she and a man named Nick Stokes were on a case involving a meth lab in a deserted house, she had been injured. No one had attacked her, nor had anyone actually seen the accident which incapacitated her.

Nick had been searching for evidence in the basement when he heard a commotion a floor above him. When he burst into the room, with weapon drawn, he found her. She was on the floor unconscious with several industrial sized cans of acetone and paint thinner on the floor beside her.

He called in their situation immediately to dispatch and as he waited for an ambulance, Nick tried unsuccessfully to rouse her. When Grissom and someone named Warrick had come to help Nick at the scene, they theorized Sara had opened the closet door to check for evidence when the shelf holding the liquids used in the production of crystal methamphetamine had dislodged rendering upon her a head injury.

Grissom had also told her someone named Catherine had come to the hospital to stay with her while the hospital staff ran CT scans and various X-rays, answering whatever questions the hospital personnel may have needed. Sara said she couldn't remember anyone other than her boyfriend or him being there. And Grissom had merely looked at her funny, before changing the subject to Warrick's discovery of three perfect sets of fingerprints on one of the cans of acetone. The prints had matched two men and had lead to their arrest. The two men not only shared the lucrative job of mixing the chemicals to form crystal meth, but they also ran a domestic painting service which afforded them the opportunity to buy the precursors to meth production without too many questions or obstacles.

Later that evening, almost 24 hours after being admitted to the hospital, the man who'd been by her side when she had awoken the first time walked into her room, smiling a thousand watt smile, bearing Gerber daisies and a bouquet of balloons.

"Hey darlin'," his Texas drawl was sexy, she thought. "How ya feeling?"

He bent down and quickly kissed her cheek, then took the chair and pulled it next to the bed.

"My head hurts, I don't remember anything, but basically, I'm fine." She smiled, thinking _What a considerate boyfriend I have,_ as she admired the daisies. She knew he was her boyfriend, because neither she nor he wore a wedding ring. And the fact that the hospital staff kept referring to her as 'Miss Sidle'.

"The doctor told Grissom you'd be discharged tomorrow, unless there are any unexpected problems. Catherine volunteered to stay with you for a while, until you can get your bearings."

"Who is Catherine? Grissom mentioned her earlier and why don't you stay with me?" Sara wondered out-loud.

"Catherine is one of your co-workers at the crime lab and the only other female in your shift. Catherine's your friend and she'll take good care of you. She's got that motherly touch, you know and it would be best if a woman looked after you as you try to remember everything."

She accepted his answer, but secretly wondered why he never answered why he wasn't going to stay with her. He kissed her on the cheek again as he was leaving, stating he needed to 'head to the house to get some shut eye, before I have to go back in to work.' She watched him, noticing for the first time, his ass as outlined by his Levis. She smiled, _What a hunk_.

Grissom had returned to visit her shortly after Nick had left. In fact the two men met in the lobby and chatted for a few moments before Grissom made his way upstairs to see Sara. When he opened the door, Grissom found Sara was sleeping again. She looked peaceful and he didn't want to disturb her, so he left a note:

_S-  
When I came back, you were asleep.  
I hope you're feeling better.  
I'll see you later.  
-G_

When the Hispanic woman with dark brown hair streaked with gray wearing overwashed kelly green scrubs brought her lunch tray, Sara wondered why there was no meat on her plate. The vegetables tasted wonderful as she contemplated when she'd eaten her last meal. When she finished, she happened to notice the note underneath the tray. She read it quickly and felt a stab of pure joy race through her as she read the handwritten, scrawled note.

_My boyfriend's name starts with a 'G'_. She felt like a teenager with her first crush. _I must love him so_, she exclaimed to herself, but wondered why something felt off. _Must be my amnesia. I'll remember everything soon_.

She prayed to Saint Anthony, who she could remember inexplicably was the patron saint of lost articles, for her memory to return soon.

She turned on the television and flipped through the channels until she heard an announcer say, "And now, we return to Bug Week here on Animal Planet." She watched the program entitled "Bugs: Pesky Pests or Unsung Heroes?" fascinated until she drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

The person named Catherine was pick her up soon and take her home. Supposedly, Catherine was her co-worker and friend, but Sara, as she'd started calling herself, could not remember the woman or anything else for that matter. She hoped Catherine was as good a friend as Grissom and her boyfriend had suggested.

She was signing discharge documents with the name 'Sara Sidle', while wondering if she was committing fraud. Each form clearly stated 'Sara Sidle' had been in an accident while at work and Worker's Compensation would cover the majority of the costs of hospitalization, but 'Sara Sidle' may be required to pay out of pocket some charges should it be necessary.

She couldn't help but grin. If it turned out she regained her memory and she wasn't Sara Sidle, some chick with that name would be responsible for her bill. She laughed out-loud as she signed on the last dotted line.

She was particularly worried about going home: home to a place she couldn't remember. It scared her to a degree, because the only memories she could grasp firmly where the ones she'd forged over the past two days.

Grissom had assured her that she'd have a job waiting for her when she was ready and the thought of working to solve mysteries appealed to her. But she just couldn't tell anyone why. She'd startled her primary physician when she'd quoted parts of "The Unified Theory of Physics" with uncanny accuracy, but she couldn't tell anyone where she lived, where she had gone to college, when she'd been born; nothing.

Suddenly a strawberry blonde burst into the hospital room with a pint-sized 'mini-me' lagging behind her. The girl, who appeared to be around 10 or 12, waved slightly and mouthed, "Hey, Sara," because she couldn't get a word in edgewise because of her mother's non-stop monologue:

"I told Lindsey we had to stop off at your apartment first to pick you up some decent clothes to wear home, and I have to say your place is immaculate, not even any garbage and your bed was made up. I never have time to do any of that kind of stuff, but anyway, girlfriend, all you had in your closet were work pants and tops and a few skirts and blazers for court. You really need go shopping for some news things, your wardrobe is sadly dated. So, we stopped at Kohl's on the way here and bought you some khaki shorts and a few colorful tops that will go with your new sandals..."

Sara stopped listening after a few minutes of Catherine rushed dialogue. She decided Catherine definitely meant well, and that she liked her.

Lindsey was checking out the balloons her boyfriend had brought her and Sara took one of the bags Catherine offered her and went into the bathroom to change.

She was shocked that Catherine had bought her lingerie, not the fact she'd bought it, but the fact that the neural colored underwear and bra fit so perfectly. Sara slipped on the shorts and one of the flattering tops, finger combed her hair, gently around the still raised bump and smiled happily into the mirror.

_It's good to have friends_.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Mistaken Notions  
Chapter Three  
By MSCSIFANGSR

* * *

Disclaimer: I really love writing different disclaimers. I don't own, nor do I have any rights to the characters used in this story. I am not receiving any monetary compensation for writing this story. It's just for fun. But if someone would perhaps offer me a job as a screen writer for CSI, I would happily accept.

* * *

Sara didn't recognize a single thing in her apartment. It really could have been anyone's or it could have been a crime scene she'd been assigned to investigate. She treated her living room as such and gingerly touched and inspected each item there as if by touching it, her memory would magically return. The purple walls startled her for a moment, but she realized the color fit the apartment and probably also the woman who lived there. She looked at the mementos from a life she didn't recall, then she found the photograph. Her heart swelled: there on a shelf above the desk stood a framed picture of the woman she knew now as herself and her cowboy boyfriend. He had his arms around her and they were both smiling.

"That was taken last year, sometime in the early summer, before it got too hot to go to the lake. We'd done some water-skiing and then picnicked. Greg's friend from college allowed us to use the boat and even Grissom had a good time."

_My boyfriend's name is GREG! I just know it._She looked at the dark haired man wearing a beat up cowboy hat holding her bikini clad self in the picture and smiled. "Why wouldn't Grissom have a good time?"

Catherine just looked at her, "Ahh, I guess you don't remember, Grissom is anti-social at best. He never does anything with the rest of us off duty. So it surprised all of us that he showed up, in shorts no less and he knew his way around a boat. He wouldn't tell anyone how he knew anything about boating, but Grissom knows everything. Sort of like you."

"I know everything?" Sara pondered that fact, and realized she did know a lot of seemingly useless information. A slight memory of a younger man, with dark hair, who could have been Grissom ten years ago, flashed through her mind. He was standing on the deck of a small sail boat and the San Francisco bridge was in the background.

"Not like that Sara. I mean, you and Grissom, you two have some kind of geek-mind-meld thing going on, sometimes."

"Have I ever been to San Francisco?" Sara hadn't heard Catherine's last remarks, as she was trying desperately to hang on to the memory of that long ago day.

"You worked for the San Francisco Crime Lab before you came here."

"Why did I come here?"

"Grissom asked you to investigate Warrick's involvement in the death of a young CSI. We didn't like you too much when you first started."

"Did he do it?"

"What?" Catherine's mind was awash at the lightning fast processes Sara still possessed.

"Warrick, did he kill her?"

Catherine's whole body relaxed, "No, Sara, he didn't. He did leave Holly at a crime scene unsupervised and the suspect came back and shot her. In fact, you and I caught the guy that killed her and then Grissom asked you to stay."

"Warrick is the guy who found the fingerprints on the cans of acetone that lead to the arrest of the men who were processing the crystal meth when I was injured." Sara looked questioningly at the slightly older woman.

Catherine beamed at Sara, "He's a good guy. The two of you did start out on wrong foot, but over time, the two of you became close."

"I will say that he's very good looking," Sara laughed, remembering the tall light skinned black man who'd brought her a particularly wonderful chocolate milk-shake while she'd been hospitalized.

"No doubt." Catherine concurred.

* * *

"Grissom?" Sara asked after Catherine had left to drop Lindsey off at her grandmother's and Grissom had been assigned to stay with her, over her ardent objections. She felt she needed some time by herself so she could acclimate herself to her surroundings. But her doctor had wanted someone to be with her at all times, in case one of her 'drilling' headaches occurred. The pain felt like someone was drilling a hole into her head, then after several seconds, the pain disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. The main reason the doctor had ordered someone to stay with her, was the probability she may have a seizure. Seizures were twelve times as likely to happen to a person after sustaining a moderate to severe head injury.

"Yes?"

"Did I know you when I lived in San Francisco?"

"Yes, I was teaching a seminar back in 1998 on the effects of first judgments on crime scene analysis and you were in the audience. We became friends." Grissom answered truthfully.

"I think I had a real memory earlier today. It was of you on a sailboat in the San Francisco bay."

Grissom was immobilized by the same memory. He remembered the time they'd shared the day after he and Sara had met. He wasn't usually a man to 'love 'em and leave 'em', but the moment he'd seen her enter the conference room with her ponytail swinging behind her, he'd been lost. She'd been so lovely and young. After the class, Sara had approached him with questions and he'd asked her for coffee. Over sandwiches and coffee, she'd told him she was planning on going sailing the next day and she'd casually invited him along if he wanted. He did, and they spent the following day sailing, talking and enjoying the beautiful San Francisco weather. His flight was at nine that night, leaving them no time other than to begin a friendship. They shared phone numbers, addresses and emails and when he'd returned to Vegas, they actually kept in touch.

Worried by his silence, Sara pressed him again. "Is that something that didn't happen or something you don't want to remember?"

"No, Sara," and then he told her the story of the two of them meeting, only leaving out the fact he'd fallen for her the moment he'd seen her.

She sensed he wasn't telling her everything, so when he was finished, she changed the subject. "Can you tell me anything about my boyfriend?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering her, but as he was about to speak, his cell phone rang, "Grissom." He answered abruptly and turned away from Sara's stare.

"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm close to the scene, now. I just need to call someone first." He hung up and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Sara, but duty calls; I'll call Catherine to tell her to hurry back or would you prefer I called Nick or Warrick or perhaps someone else?"

"It doesn't matter, Grissom. I'm going to take a bath."

Grissom started punching in numbers on his cell phone as Sara left the room removing her shirt in the process. Her tanned, smooth, well-defined muscled back beckoned him and he watched helplessly as she removed the natural colored bra. His attention focused on the woman before him until he heard Catherine's voice coming out of his cell phone..."Grissom! What do you want?"

"I got called to a scene. I need to leave Sara's. Are you on your way back?" Sara closed the bathroom door behind her.

"I'm at the mall to buying Lindsey a costume for the recital tomorrow. I won't be able to get to Sara's for about twenty minutes."

"You know what the doctor said, she can't be left alone."

"Gil, you can stay there. I'll be there as soon as I can. You can be late, you know, the crime scene isn't going anywhere..." With that Catherine hung up on him.

Grissom sighed as he sat down stiffly onto Sara's couch. He didn't want to remain in her apartment while she was bathing. The fact she'd started undressing as she left the room had him aroused; and now to know she was naked in the next room was highly stimulating. He needed to leave before he did something stupid and crossed the line between friendship and something more. He thought perhaps he'd gotten another chance with the beautiful brunette when she'd lost her memory. She couldn't remember all those times he'd pushed her away. The only thing that worried him was her 'boyfriend'. No one other than the team had visited her at the hospital and Sara was adamant about having a boyfriend. He hoped it was a mistaken notion brought on by the head injury.

* * *

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Mistaken Notions  
Chapter 4  
By MSCSIFANGSR

* * *

Disclaimer: Okay, so I own seasons 1-9 on DVD; all of the novels published; and even the graphic novels. And even have a few episodes that I purchased on iTunes, but I don't own anything that gives me the right to write these stories. Kinda sucks, huh?

Note: reason for M rating becomes apparent in this chapter.

* * *

Sara luxuriated in the tub. She wished she could have seen the look on Grissom's face as she left the room. Something about him made her tingle with anticipation. The warmth of the water and the dissipating bubbles lulled her into a very tranquil state. Her eyes were closed; her mind awash with a fantasy:

_She could feel the water streaming down her back as he washed her back, creating invisible whorls and loops reminiscent of fingerprint patterns up and down her spine. She moaned as she felt his kisses against her neck, she closed her eyes in bliss as his tongue teased her warm flesh._

Sara's own fingers made their way into the water to give herself pleasure as the fantasy continued:

_His kisses were becoming more ardent and she could feel his hands moving around her body, slowly, to grasp each of her breasts from behind. His warm, naked body pulled hers closer as she felt his arousal pressed up to her low back. His fingers were working magic on her nipples and his lips continued to sear across her neck and upper back. She shifted herself more into his embrace, as she did so, his heft slipped easily inside her own warmth. Sara gasped as one of his hands slid down to caress the pulsating bundle of nerves and then there seemed to be an explosion of brilliant light into a million beautiful pieces. _

And the only word that escaped her lips as she achieved orgasm was: "Grissom!"

* * *

"Sara!"

In her haze of pleasure, she heard Grissom shouting her name. As she slowly realized he was pounding on the bathroom door, she found herself embarrassed and unusually mortified.

"What?" She shouted back in response.

"I heard you call my name. Are you hurt?" Came his frantic reply.

"No," she blushed when she realized he'd heard her call his name out in pleasure only moments before, "I'm fine. I'm just getting out of the tub now." Sara quickly stood up, grabbed the towel and eased out of the tub, drying herself in the process. She could feel his presence strongly on the other side of the door. Her intuition told her to open the door to him and take him into her arms. But she hesitated when she thought of the handsome cowboy who'd brought her flowers in the hospital. _I can't cheat on him. That's just wrong. But with Grissom...hmmm._

"Grissom?"

He answered immediately, "Yes?"

"I'm fine. I thought you had left."

She heard him clear his throat through the closed door. "I couldn't leave you alone. Doctor's orders. Catherine should be here in a few minutes, then I'll leave."

"You didn't have to stay." Sara slipped into the pink terrycloth bathrobe that had hung on a hook between the toilet and tub. Surprisingly, the robe fit her perfectly. Then she thought to herself, _Of course it does, it's mine Wonder why my fantasy was of Grissom instead of that handsome dark haired cowboy? But Grissom does have the most amazing blue eyes. He's my boss, though. It was just a fantasy, nothing more. Damn-it._

A sudden drilling pain shot through her skull, lasting only several seconds, but the pain had blinded her to the fact that someone had rung the doorbell to her apartment.

She opened the bathroom door and watched as Catherine breezed into the room, and as Grissom hurriedly exited her apartment, without saying a word. What Sara didn't see was the reddened and slightly flustered face of her boss, but Catherine noticed.

"What was that all about?" Catherine's tone was demanding but not commanding.

"I'm not sure." Sara shrugged her shoulders innocently and to change the subject asked, "If you were me, where would you hide the coffee?"

"Between the two of us, I'm sure we can find it. I could use a cup myself." Catherine started rummaging through the cabinets in the kitchen as Sara sat down on one of the stools at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.

"Catherine, I'm really confused. Can you help me fill in the gaps?"

"Sure." Catherine filled the carafe with water then poured it into the coffeemaker. Then she carefully measured out three spoonfuls of coffee grounds and dropped them into the filter.

"Where is my family?"

"I don't know." Catherine answered truthfully.

"Don't you find that odd?"

"Sara, before you were injured, you kept your personal life to yourself. You might share the fact that you were going on a date with that dog paramedic, but you never mentioned your personal life prior to becoming a CSI with any of us."

"Dog paramedic?"

"You dated this guy Hank for a while. He was a paramedic. Ringing any bells?" Catherine questioned.

Sara thought for a few minutes, knowing nothing would pop out of her addled brain before replying, "Nope."

"Well, the two of you had been dating for a year or so, then Warrick, you and I were called to a crime scene where an older woman had run her car into a cafe. Hank was there and was injured and you expressed your concern for him as we worked the scene. We thought it was an accident until you determined the car had not slowed before plowing into the restaurant. Then we checked the seating charts and low and behold, Hank had been sitting with a woman who worked for the insurance company the older woman had been denied benefits."

A strange image of a tall blond man crept into Sara's mind. "Oh, I'm trying to remember, this even sounds familiar." Sara mind took over as Catherine didn't say anything else for several minutes. Sara was bombarded by several emotions at once, happiness over another memory coming to light, anger and embarrassment over the way the man had used her as the other woman, and finally a flash of her old life came to her. She could picture the bar in which she and Catherine had had a few beers to commiserate the end of her relationship with Hank. Catherine had encouraged her to move on with her life and not to dwell on past mistakes.

"You helped me a lot that night."

Catherine smiled and winked, "I see little bits are coming to you."

"Did you introduce me to Greg?"

Catherine's expression changed to one of puzzlement. "Greg Sanders? The DNA tech at work?"

Sara could easily picture the man in her mind. "No, I think remember him though. I'm talking about my boyfriend."

"Sara, you'd never mentioned a boyfriend before your head injury. Are you sure you really have a boyfriend?"

"I'm not crazy. The first time I woke up in the hospital he was sleeping in the chair beside me."

"Sara, the only two people at the hospital other than me were Grissom and Nick."

"Oh Catherine, I'm so confused." The drilling pain shot through her head as she attempted to stand.

"Sara, sit back down. You're in pain. I can't have you seizing on me, now can I?"

The maternal tone of her friend's voice broken through as the pain lessened. "I'm fine, now Catherine." The pain completely disappeared and she took several deep breaths to relax a bit before she continued, "Here let me show you something." Sara opened her purse and dug through until she found the note addressed to her signed with a "G".

Catherine examined the note as she would a piece of evidence before she declared, "This is Grissom's handwriting."

"So, am I dating him?"

Catherine looked at her incredulously for a moment, before she replied, "If the two of you are dating, it's about time. But it does create some major problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"Well, Gil is your supervisor at the crime lab. There is a strict 'no fishing off the company pier' policy. You both could lose your jobs over something like that."

"I wouldn't put him in that position," Sara explained. "What do you mean, 'it's about time'?"

"You two have danced around each other for years. I'm pretty sure that you're in love with him and the same holds true for him. I can't image either of you acting on your desires, but if it has finally happened, then congratulations."

"And if we're not together?" Sara sighed.

"Then you and I have some scheming to do." Catherine held her coffee cup up in the air as if to toast the occasion, but Sara ignored her.

"And if I have a boyfriend?" Sara's eyes bore a hole into the strawberry blonde.

Catherine lowered her cup and seriously considered the implications of Sara's question. "Well, then we'd better do a little investigating. We'll get your telephone messages, see if you have any messages from him; we'll check caller id; we'll go through your cell phone to see if anyone named Greg, other than Sanders is listed. It'll be your first case to solve."

Sara smiled, ready to address the mystery of her boyfriend when the doorbell rang.

Both women shrugged, when they looked at each other in question.

At Catherine's sly smile, Sara questioned, "What?"

"Maybe it's your elusive boyfriend. And we won't have to investigate anything." Catherine got up from the barstool and made her way to answer Sara's door. She peeped through the eyehole in the door, hoping to see Gil Grissom standing there to stake his claim on Sara or even the boyfriend, who she questioned existed. But instead standing on the other side of the door was Nick Stokes. She breathed a sigh of relief. _Maybe Nick can cheer Sara up,_ she thought.

Catherine unlatched the chain and opened the door and looked at the tall handsome Texan and smiled.

He returned her smile and gave her a slight half hug, and whispered softly into her ear, "Is it okay for me to visit?"

"Sure, Nicky." She whispered back.

Sara eyed the exchange between her friend Catherine and her boyfriend Greg and wondered: _How is it that Catherine thinks he's a mystery man when there she is, standing in my doorway hugging my boyfriend?_

"Hiya Sara! How ya feeling?"

_His drawl is so cute._ Sara flung herself into his arms like she hadn't seen him in six months and began kissing his cheek and neck.

Nick looked incredulously at Catherine who stared back at the woman amorously attacking her co-worker.

He pushed Sara away from him, uncomfortable in her affectionate embrace and under the watchful eye of Catherine. "Whoa, girl. What's up with all this?"

"Greg, I've missed you so much."

Again, Nick disbelievingly looked at Catherine only to see his friend laughing so hard, tears were falling down her face.

Sara felt embarassed when her boyfriend pushed her away. And her face reddened in response.

"Sara, I'm not Greg. I know you're memory is a little addled but I'm Nick...Nick Stokes, you remember?" He stammered as Sara's eyes widened with surprise.

_Oh no! I've really screwed up. Catherine's laughing at me and this is my partner, the man saved my life at the crime scene, who is not my boyfriend, but is a co-worker. How could I have gotten that mixed up?_ Sara just stood there unmoving and silent, lost in her own thoughts as Nick and Catherine worriedly looked at each other.

"Sara?" Catherine's concerned tone broke through her temporary paralysis. "Are you okay?" Catherine was worried the intense, flat stare signaled a seizure.

"My head's killing me, worse than usual. I'm so confused and I want Grissom." Sara moved slowly to her couch and sat down. She didn't look at either of her friends as the tears welled up in her eyes.

* * *

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Mistaken Notions  
Chapter 5  
By: MSCSIFANGSR

* * *

Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, then this story would be seen on CBS on Thursday night at 8 p.m. Well, maybe not CBS, but HBO or Showtime, maybe?

Note: Another chapter with 'light smut'.

* * *

The distinct odor of a decomposing body wafted through the air as the uniformed officer escorted Grissom through the maze of woods near Lake Mead. The trees were changing color in anticipation of winter and the floor of the woods was littered with brown, crunchy leaves. Their footfalls announced their presence to the two men awaiting to remove the body.

When he examined the body, Grissom began his usual thorough inspection. The actively decaying body was of a male, age indeterminable and teemed with flies, maggots and beetles. He quickly photographed the body and gathered specimens of the various carrion insects before David Phillips and another coroner's assistant placed the body in the black medium duty body bag to deliver to the morgue. After they left, Grissom, with Officer Mitchell standing sentry, worked through the scene in an effort to find evidence associated with the dead body.

Gilbert Grissom was in a quandary. He was at a crime scene but his mind lingered on Sara's bare back as she shed her clothes before him.

He cognitively he knew he was searching for evidence while on 'autopilot'. But his suspended attention to the crime scene netted four various dirt encrusted buttons, a 1963 silver quarter, heavily tarished and one old smashed coca-cola can. Nothing that really could be associated with the death of the victim.

While he really contemplated the fine hue of Sara's skin; the clear cut shape of the muscles of her back; the way her spine and scapula lifted when she removed the floral shirt; the way her hands easily removed the bra; the way his body responded to her body. He wanted to take her then: waltz right into the bathroom and share an erotic bath with her. His fantasy overtook him:

_I am running my fingers down her spine in tight concentric circles, massaging the soap into her skin. My lips burn to taste her neck and I do. She tastes amazingly like a delicate flower, sweet and poignant. I am hard, hard as a rock, but I wait so I can explore her breasts with my hands. Her nipples harden under my touch. Her moans tell me to not to stop. She shifts back and BAM! I'm inside her. Her sweet wet tightness meets my turgid cock in the warm water of the bathtub.... _

The crunching sounds of another person's footfalls making their way toward the crime scene, effectively repressed his fantasy from proceeding any further. When Grissom shook his head slightly to clear the steamy illusion, Warrick appeared next to him.

"What'd you find, Griss?"

"Looks like boot tracks leading away from the scene. You cast them, then maybe go behind me to see if I missed anything. I'll get back to the lab to check on the body." Grissom closed the evidence bags, placed them into his kit. He lifted one of the specimen jars containing several carrion beetles. "And I'm going to interrogate these witnesses, to see what they have to say."

As Grissom turned his back to Warrick and Officer Mitchell, Warrick silently mouthed, "See if I missed anything?"

Mitch looked at Warrick and shrugged his shoulders.

"See you later at the lab," Grissom said over his shoulder he disappeared into the woods to return to his Denali.

_Oh shit, I can't believe I was fantasizing at a crime scene surrounded by the smell of decomposing flesh. I hope they doesn't notice the fact I was seriously aroused. Damn good thing I wear baggy pants._

_I can't wait till I can see Sara again. I finally know what to do about 'this'._

* * *

The cast from the mold Warrick had taken measured to be a man's size 13 narrow and the tread from the shoe matched the tread of a specialty hiking boot, sold only at Bass Pro Shops.

After taking the body's prints and running them through AFIS, Grissom had a 100 percent match with a missing teenager from Florida, a boy wanted in conjunction with possible drug trafficing ring. Grissom made the call to the Miami-Dade Police Department, speaking with the CSI who initially logged evidence in the missing person case and gave her all the necessary information and received clearance to ship the remains there for the family to claim after the autopsy was complete.

He was intrigued about the shoe print leading away from the body, and theorized someone had come upon the body and not reported it. It was too bad whoever it was didn't report the body; because the victim's family could have been spared the doubt over the teen's whereabouts.

Doc Robbins paged him to come to the morgue and when Grissom arrived, he informed the night shift supervisor: "He was body-packing."

"What?"

"New slang for a mule. Cocaine and heroin, apparently wrapped in fingers from latex gloves for easy swallowing and removal. One of the heroin pellets burst and your young man over-dosed."

"That fits with what the CSI from Miami told me."

Robbins nodded and changed the subject, "How is Sara?"

Grissom cleared his throat, and although he'd gone almost 2 hours without thinking about Sara, his thoughts turned to her immediately.

"She got out of the hospital today, I was at her apartment when I was called to the scene."

"But Gil, how is she?"

"Not herself at all. I'm really worried, Al."

"That's to be expected with an injury such as her's, just be there for her Gil. She needs you. Oh, and Gil?"

Grissom raised his eyebrows in question.

"You stink, go take a shower." With that statement, Al Robbins left the room, leaving Grissom standing next to the stainless steel slab with a startled expression on his face.

He made his way up to the locker room. Shift was over and he tried to decide if he should shower there or wait until he went home. _But I'd really like to go see Sara before I go home_. He quickly punched in her cell number, expecting to hear her voice, instead he was greeted by his friend, Catherine Willows.

"Hi Gil."

"Can I speak..."

"She's regaining some of her memory spontaneously and she's having a difficult time dealing with it."

"But Catherine, can I speak to..."

"Gil, I think her head is bothering her more than she's admitting. Nick came by earlier and she started crying."

"What did he say to her?" He asked heatedly.

"She thought Nick was the boyfriend. Her memory is in jumbles."

"Are the headaches getting any better?" His voice turned from heated to concerned in a moment.

"She has those weird little 'drilly' headaches as she calls them. She says they feel like someone's put a drill into her brain, drills for a few seconds, then it stops. When Sara realized her memory had been playing tricks on her, she grabbed her head and started crying. I think she made a break-through on a personal matter she's been dealing with for a long time, that involves you. We made her take some of her pain meds so she could rest. She's sleeping now, but when she wakes up, if she's still hurting I'm taking her back to the ER, so they can figure out what's going on. You get some rest, and I call you when I know something. Goodbye, Gil."

"But Catherine..." The phone clicked in his ear. Grissom wondered why the 'break-through on a personal matter' sounded ominous to him. _Maybe she came to the conclusion that I'm not worth her time._ It saddened him to think that perhaps he was 'too late'. He gathered a few of his things from his locker and then briefly wondered if he should go home or go to Sara's anyway to make sure she was okay. But Catherine had said she was sleeping, so he decided to head home.

Once at home, Grissom took his friend Al Robbins advice and headed straight to the shower to remove the smell of decomp from his skin. When he was alone in the shower as the warm water sprayed down upon him, the image of a naked and wet Sara Sidle squeezing the lemons over his head, then running her hands teasingly along his ribcage and slowly journeying south was almost too much for him to take as his own orgasm finally overtook him.

_I really need to see her soon._

* * *

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Mistaken Notions  
Chapter 6  
By: MSCSIFANGSR

* * *

Disclaimer: As noted before, I own all kinds of stuff associated with CSI; the same holds true for 'The Princess Bride', I own the DVD and the VHS, the book by William Goldman and even a couple of pieces of movie memorabilia, but nothing I own allows me to use their characters such as I do. So, please, please, please don't sue me.

Note: This is the last chapter. Hope I fulfilled Kiki xxL's challenge sufficiently. And hope everyone else enjoyed the story. My thanks to JeanJeanJellyBean for reading through all the chapters and offering ideas; she came up with the ending. She is wonderful, in case any of you are wondering.

* * *

Several hours after Grissom called to check on Sara, Catherine awoke to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. She stretched her body as much as Sara's couch allowed her, then raised her head up to look around the darkened apartment. She could tell the light over the stove was on, but no other light, other than what streamed through the room darkening curtains allowed.

Catherine checked her watch: 10:30 am. She sat up on the side of the couch, looking around the room again. She didn't see Sara, but heard a weird noise coming from the kitchenette.

"Sara?"

The noise was getting louder, Catherine felt a sense of urgency and she ran the few short feet where she found Sara on the floor convulsing, flailing her arms and legs; her eyelids fluttering in slow butterfly like movements.

Catherine reached into her pants pocket for her cell phone and quickly dialed 9-1-1.

"What is your emergency?"

"My friend is having a seizure. She just had a head injury less than a week ago."

"What is the address?"

Catherine supplied the necessary information, along with Sara's other pertinent information.

"Make sure the patients head doesn't become re-injured during this episode. You can hold her head or move her body away from potential harm. But don't attempt any further action until the EMT's arrive. They are on their way, now. The estimated time of arrival is less than 10 minutes."

Catherine shook her head to clear it, then knelt down and took Sara's head into her lap. Soothingly, she ran her hand through Sara's hair, avoiding the still goose egg sized bump on her head.

"Shh, Sara. It's okay. Shh, baby, it's okay," was Catherine's mantra until the seizure stopped and Sara's body completely collapsed in her arms.

There was a swift knock on the door and Catherine slowly lowered her friend's body back onto the floor to open the door to the paramedics.

They performed a quick thorough check of her body and took her vitals before loading her onto the stretcher. Catherine grabbed her purse from the coffee table, and thoughtfully turned off the coffee pot, before following the EMT's out the door and down the stairs to the waiting ambulance.

"I'll follow you guys," Catherine shouted as the back door's to the ambulance shut. She ran to her car parked about 300 feet from the ambulance, unlocked the door and climbed in, breathless.

She dialed her cell phone, frantically, this time as it rang, time after time. "Come on, Grissom...pick up."

Waking through the fog of sleep, Grissom's cell phone was blaring on the bedtime table. He grabbed the phone, immediately thinking it was the lab, calling him out on a case. "Grissom!"

"Gil, Sara's had a seizure, she's in an ambulance on the way to the hospital."

He was fully awake with her words, all vestiges of sleep were forgotten and his tone completely business-like, "Did she re-injure her head?"

"No, I kept it cradled in my lap."

"You did good. I'll meet you at the hospital shortly." Grissom clicked off his phone, and hurriedly pulled on the clothes he'd laid out prior to going to bed. He'd learned a long time ago, it was prudent to have his clothes ready in case he received an early roll out call.

He ran down stairs, fully dressed three minutes after Catherine's call, grabbed his keys and made his way outside to his vehicle. Starting, his car, Grissom sent up a silent prayer to keep Sara safe.

Eighteen minutes later, he walked into the emergency entrance asking the triage nurse for directions to where Sara was located. The nurse recognized him from his many visits to the ER to gather evidence from victims of crime, so she didn't hesitate to give him the information. He walked through the maze of cubicles divided by curtains as he had many times until he found her.

He peered into the small enclosed space at the unconscious woman. Grissom's heart rate was about 95 as he stared at her receiving an IV which was labeled 'Dilantin'. He knew from experience that was a drug used to treat seizures. He took a deep breath and made his way into the cubicle, looked down at Sara worriedly, and laced his fingers with hers.

"Aww, Gil. I'm so glad you're here." Catherine's voice penetrated his consciousness after a time. "She seems okay. The doctor's said that it's not uncommon after a seizure for the patient to fall into a deep sleep."

"What happened?" His voice whispered.

"I woke up to the smell of coffee, then heard a weird noise in the kitchen. I investigated. Sara was in the midst of a seizure. I called 9-1-1; the EMT's arrived; they brought her here. The ER doctor that treated Sara initially after her first head injury was here; he ordered the Dilantin and now we wait."

"For?"

Catherine could have sworn she saw in her friend and boss, the lost little boy that he may have been once. "For her to wake up and go back to being her normal bubbly self."

Grissom's slight chuckle was interrupted by Sara's fluttering slowly opening eyes.

"Grissom, I love..."

"I do too, dear." Her eyes closed again and a big smile appeared on her face.

* * *

Hours later, Sara awoke feeling something tugging against her skin, and her first thought was, _It can't be good if I've got another IV stuck in me_. She looked around and found she was in another standard hospital room with an unobtrusive painting of a mountain scene directly across from her bed. Her gaze settled on someone sitting on a chair close beside her, the man's fingers were laced through her own.

She smiled at the graying entomologist beside her, closed her eyes and thanked her lucky stars Nick wasn't there this time and returned to sleep.

* * *

The television was on the next time she woke up. She experienced deja vu: Westley, disguised as the Dread Pirate Roberts, had his hands behind his head and was laughing at situation in which he found himself. He'd just drank from the cup that contained enough poison to kill him on the spot, but he was immune to the drug. Vizzini keeled over moments later.

She loved this movie and clearly recalled the last time she'd seen it that she'd been in a similar situation, but this time, she remembered everything about her life. All her memories had returned and her head, thankfully, wasn't hurting. She mentally stretched her mind recalling the first bicycle she'd ever ridden, when the sound of Grissom's voice broke through her thoughts.

"How do you feel, Sara?"

She looked at his adoring blue eyes boring a hole into her. "I'm good, Griss. You?"

"I've been worried. You had a seizure at your apartment and the EMT's brought you here as a precaution."

"Where's Catherine?"

"She went down to the cafeteria for something for us to eat."

Sara looked up at the television screen again. "I love this movie, Grissom. Isn't it funny that it's on everytime I wake up with you beside me in a hospital bed?" Westley was tumbling down the side of a hill, while screeching, "As you wish". The proverbial light finally went off over Princess Buttercup's head with her realization that the Dread Pirate Roberts and her true love, Westley, were one and the same.

"Well, true love does win the day," Grissom smirked.

That was the last thing she expected him to say as he leaned down to sit on the bed beside her. He looked deep into her eyes and Grissom fumbled for something to say.

"I...I mean, Sara, you mean more to me...It's just that...well, I wish I could...What I'm trying to say...."

"Oh Grissom, shut up and kiss me," she demanded.

He winked before replying, "As you wish."

* * *

THE END


End file.
